The One Snowy Sea
by Ketcha
Summary: It was said in the land of the elves that a human and elf came to birth a young, half-elf by the name of Aron. He and his father were exiled, and the memory of their very existence in the elf world is wiped. However, not all is as it seems. The truth we see may be much better than the harsh reality. ON HOLD
1. Prologue

**A Selection of Elvish Mistakes** **, "Dauthleikr", written after Galbatorix's death**

There once was a elf and a human, in the land of Alagaësia, who fell deeply in love. They lived on the outskirts of Du Weldenvarden, some years before rumours of Eragon began to spread. The elf, who was a woman, hid her human lover in the elven town of Sílthrim. They had a child, who was a boy named Aron, but after three years of keeping him and the human in hiding, the other elves discovered them.

In the city of Sílthrim, chaos broke out and anger through the townspeople for allowing a human into the sacred land of the elvers. What angered them even more was the boy, Aron. Being half-elf, half-human, he looked almost like a human, except for his pointed ears and a face with slightly sharper and more handsome features. He had snow white hair, which was odd among both races; coupled with bright, innocent sea-blue eyes However, the elven government quickly quieted the people of Sílthrim and anyone who knew of the human and child were forced to stay quiet.

After evaluating the situation for themselves, the memories of the human and child were wiped from the elves, including Aron's mother. The government tested Aron's skills, and decreed him too weak, even though his skills matched that of any elf his age. A small group of powerful elves were gathered, and they sealed away Aron and his father's memories of Ellesméra and Sílthrim , also casting a spell to hide Aron's eleven features. They were then dumped in the nearest human town, Cuenon.

Aron's father, who went by the name of Catark, was actually quite as bad father. During Aron's first three years in the land of the elves, his mother had mostly taken care of him. Catark was strong, kind to some degree, and rather attractive by a girl's standards. Yet, he knew nothing when it came to parenting. He ended up leaving Aron alone for weeks at a time, all the while he was off working on a job, leaving Aron with a guardian who came by their small hut to prepare some food. By the age of six, he was completely alone and had to do labor at the neighbor's to get coin for food.

If Aron had been any normal child, his childhood could have been much worse. However, Aron was half-elf and was certainly not normal. His father was rarely around, and he was forced into the grind of hard labor at shops and from people around town to get coin. Kinder folk offered to give him the coin he needed for free, but he denied out of his own pride. He grew strong and acquired a tough body with great endurance and strength. Due to his elf heritage, his features stayed the same; ageless skin, lean body, and a sharp face.

Despite having to do hard work daily, nearly all of the townspeople of Cuenon loved him for his optimistic and innocent nature. He was a boy who made fun out of heaving logs and sharpening swords. If he had been born by different parents, he could have continued his normal, but hard, life. Though, as a boy with a elf parent living in a human world, it could never be this way.

At the age of sixteen, Aron's growth began to slow, and now it would take hundreds of years for him to age even a year or so beyond sixteen. This enough meant a less-than-normal life for him. Unfortunately, the few more years he could have lived in Cuenon as a normal child was stolen away when a soldier came by and announced that Catark's house would be permanently confiscated, as it had turned out that his father had broken several Empire laws and stole valuable objects from the nobles of Urû'baen while on a drunken spree. Aron was asked questions related to his father's past before releasing him into the streets.

With nowhere to stay and too much pride to live with the kind people of his town, he asked around for a good job that would pay enough for him to buy back the small house for himself eventually. However, no one agreed to accept his job applications. He had nearly lost all hope until someone suggested he join the army.

Now, the legend of Aron begins.

_Information about his heritage and the elves comes from elvish government records. Later information on childhood confirmed later in later years._


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey! This is my first fan fiction, and I hope to go through with this. The characters will be mostly OCs, Galbatorix will definitely make a show eventually and so will the other characters (probably). Pardon me for any grammar mistakes, I don't have the patience myself to go through and reread it to check for mistakes. Constructive criticism is appreciated. I ****_might _****eventually do some romance, but I'm not sure. I mean, I purposely made him pretty for a reason. ;) This won't be totally serious, I'll dab in some humour here or there as we get into the story... there may be violence, some language later on. I'm thinking most of the chapters will be about this long, longer or shorter, not sure yet. Anyways, if you have any questions feel free to ask. I'm not sure how popular this will be, but I'll keep writing whenever I have the motivation to. I will try to post weekly. Not sure how long this will be, but I'm thinking ****_at least _****10 chapters. But, to be honest, I don't know. But I'll stop rambling now so you can actually read this chapter. **

**Chapter 1 **

A teenager, about sixteen or so, sat on the bench on the outskirts of Cuenon. He looked out to the edge of Du Weldenvarden, the forest first starting thin then thickening till the trees stood so close together that all dimmed into darkness. He had been around the edge of the forest to collect firewood on jobs, but out of wariness he had never gone far in. People who wandered too far came back crazy or not at all.

Idly, his nails moved in on each other, removing the dirt embedded within. Some time passed, with him just sitting there, taking in the scene around him. Warm, dying rays of sunlight slowly traveled across his shadowy form as dusk turned to night. Sun's light faded, as the blue hues in the sky darkened to black. A new shade fell upon Aron, the distinct milky white of the moon.

Two deep, sea blue orbs rose from their fixated gaze on the woods to the sky, the star's gentle reflection upon the blue. Tousled, snowy white hair obscured his vision slightly, a stray hair or two falling across his eyes. With a heavy sigh, he rose, his features highlighted in the moonlight. Rounded ears hid in his messy hair, and his facial features were sharp, but not enough for an elf; yet his skin was young and clear, despite years of hard work he had endured. That hard work had made him strong, but this did not show in his reflection, to his own distaste. To the common eye, he had never done any honest work in his life.

Aron made his way along the dirt road, walking between the shallow, curved trenches in the ground, created from the constant pass of trading wagons. The surface under his feet was hard and dusty, as it was summer, and there had little rain in the past months. His feet carried him a unfamiliar route, as normally he would have headed toward his father's house, but not today. In fact, it was just this morning that a soldier of the Empire had come to his house, telling him that it would be permanently confiscated. Apparently, his father, Catark, had stolen some expensive items from the nobles in Uru'baen, The soldiers explained to him that he had been drunk, but Aron felt like something hadn't been right. Catark never got drunk, and he was no thief. Why would he had done such things? The soldiers had followed up by questioning him excessively, about questions that weren't that related to his father at all. He had felt strange at the time, as if someone had been poking at his consciousness.

Today, Aron would be staying at the house of one his close friends', Travis. At first, he had insisted on staying on the streets, but Travis had told him to stop being ridiculous and to just stay at his place for a bit while he worked to get a job. He had also gotten Travis to use his own food to make dinner that night.

Walking up to the steps of Travis's house, he raised his fist to knock, but the door opened before he could do so. Before him stood his friend, Travis, and his parents, Joshua and Sarah.

"Hey! Aron! You've been out late; you should've come sooner!"Travis complained.

"Poor little boy. You should have know better than to wander alone at night,"childed Sarah.

Joshua began to argue. "Pah! He isn't little, Sarah. It may not look like it, but Aron is one of the toughest boys in Cuenon. I'm sure Aron would agree." Aron rubbed the back of his neck subconsciously as Sarah began to speak.

"It doesn't matter how strong he is, who knows what kind of people would go after him? After all, look at that pretty face!" She sounded a bit excited, and Joshua shot a threatening glare at him, as if he was going to steal Sarah from him. Aron proceeded to ruffle his hair, now a tad of fear sparking in his eyes.

"N-no worries, Joshua, I'm sure I'm too young for her. She's only joking," he paused for a moment to shoot a silencing stare at Sarah, who was about to speak up, then continued, "I apologize for being late. When I lived alone, I often did this and I've never been jumped before." Aron bowed slightly in apology.

Joshua paused to stare at him with stony eyes before speaking. "Well then, you ought to come in now before you let in any more cold air,"he said slowly, his eyes still on Aron.

Aron stepped into the warm light of Travis's house. Travis had already wandered inside a bit, his eyes oblivious and bright. The cabin was familiar to him, as he had been here in the past for work and the occasional friendly visit. This time, he was here as he had accepted their hospitality. He knew it was only for a few days, but it still annoyed him.

Travis watched him, eager to talk. The boy's black hair was cut down to about a inch short, identical to his father's hairstyle. However, his eyes were a dark, gritty brown compared to Joshua's ebony eyes. In the light, he could also see Sarah better as well. She had long, rough-looking brown hair, pale skin, and brown eyes akin to her son's. Her face was soft, like Aron's, as Travis and Joshua had calloused hands and worn faces.

His eyes scanned the chestnut walls, which were mostly empty except for a family portrait and some other pictures, framed by the rough, dark wood of Du Weldenvarden. He walked down the hall, a hardwood floor underfoot, his eyes scanning the furniture, which was simple and wooden. His eyes wandered into a bedroom, scanning the the mattress. It looked to be made well, but it was clear that the stuffing was straw.

Aron stepped into the kitchen, where the wood floor stopped abruptly to be replaced with polished stone. A simple, fire-fueled stove sat in the corner by a sink, which had a jug of water hanging over for washing. In the center of the kitchen was a table and seats, probably the nicest furniture the house, as it was polished. His plate of food was covered with a light foil, which he removed carefully as steam billowed up into the air. Sitting down, he took his spoon out and began to eat the steaming food.

The meal consisted of brown rice with a smooth, creamy mushroom sauce. A small cut of white chicken breast was placed neatly next to the rice, also covered with the delicious sauce. String beans of varying sizes lay in a stack in another corner, gleaming in the light. As he ate, Joshua, Sarah, and Travis casually talked, and he occasionally added in his own comments. Eventually, Joshua asked,

"So, Aron, how goes your quest to find a job?"

Aron shook his head slowly, then finished chewing before speaking. "No success. I asked the blacksmith, tailor, leatherworker, herbalist.. none could offer me jobs or were willing to offer me one that would pay enough. The jobs with good pay, I'm not good enough for them or are taken already, and the ones I can do don't pay enough."

Joshua and Sarah sighed. Travis looked hopefully at Aron.

"I'm sorry, but as you know we can't give you a job at the butcher. We can't afford to pay for you, nor can we keep you in this house much longer. Your pride won't hold, and in a week our relatives are coming over. Our cabin will be packed full," Sarah stated sadly.

"There is one option," Aron offered, "I could join the army!" He brightened for a moment, thinking of heroic tales he could make. In the army, he would have a place to stay, and it would certainly be a change from his boring, normal life in Cuenon. He didn't show it much, but he hated his repetitive life.

Joshua and Sarah stared at him like he was stupid. "Don't even consider it, Aron! Soldiers in the army die in war! It is not the heroic fairy tail you think it is," Joshua growled, reading his thoughts, "War is cold, bloody, and relentless; a boy young and innocent as you should not throw yourself into such a harsh world." Aron paid no heed, for he did not fear such things. Or, at least, he thought he did. His blue eyes that glowed moments before darkened into slits. In short, he snapped. It didn't take much to make him snap.

"What else can I do? Continue this meaningless, repetitive life in Cuenon, waiting for Catark all my life? Joshua, Sarah, even Travis, know this. I want to see the world, see the rest of Alagaesia beyond this town's walls! The army is the perfect way to see it, and at the same time get money to pay for my daily needs. I'm old enough, and I don't even have anything here for me anymore. I need to move on!" Aron roared, his voice raised to it's climax. His voice then softened. "Perhaps, just maybe, this is the spirit's way of telling me it's time to start my life."

"Start your life? Is that how you feel about these past years? Are we, and everyone in this house, really that meaningless to you? Be careful what you say, boy, it may hurt more than you intended," Joshua spat. Sarah and Travis remained quiet. Aron seemed shocked for a moment, but he revived his angry demeanor moments later. However, this time, he was a tad more quaint.

"You all have helped me in these past years. I thank you for that. But, can that really be called living? Maybe for you all. But I have never been satisfied with this life of carrying logs from forest to house, eating, and then retiring for the night. And repeat. Repeat, repeat, repeat again, and again, and again! Do you not want to live in a more exciting life?" Aron retorted.

Joshua eyes darkened. "I have had the fleeting childhood desires of such. Of being a hero, of saving the world. I thought it would be exciting. But I learned that being in war was not kind, it was not exciting. It was something I came to dread, and every time I fought I felt sorrow around me. For the men who died, for the men I killed, for the men who had yet to fall." Aron looked at him, his expression blank. Sarah looked on with a grave knowing.

"You may not know this, Aron, but Joshua was in the war. It was hard for him, and he doesn't want you to feel the same way. You must understand this,"Sarah spoke softly.

"It is true. I killed, and I almost died myself. The moment I could leave, I left. And I never wanted to return."

Aron bowed his head, feeling slightly ashamed now knowing what Joshua had been through. He raised his head, and looking into Joshua's ebony eyes. "I will not die, I promise you that, Joshua. I give my thanks for your insight… but my resolve holds. I will join the army. It is my only hope at a new life. Living here, for me, is not living for me at all. Despite you all…"he faded off, then spoke again, quieter this time. "Ever since I came here at the age of three, I've felt like something was missing. Like something wasn't right. I don't even remember back far enough to when I first came here. Even though my memories are only of Cuenon, I've never been able to think of it as home."

Joshua blinked, his voice losing all emotion. "Then, Aron, I cannot give you my blessing." He paused, almost as if debating whenever or not to say the next words, but he clearly chose to as he continued speaking. "I curse you, for risking your life on such trivial desires against my own wishes. Out of my own selfishness, I curse you to come back alive and return here." The last sentence shocked him and everyone around the table slightly, for it was spoken in a language none recognized, yet they all seemed to understand.

"A curse, but not a curse. It seems I do not have a choice but to return here now. And alive,"he said, the corners of his mouth raised slightly. "I will go. To the army."

"One word, honey, before you go to bed. When would the recruiting be?"Sarah asked politely.

"Tomorrow morning, seven. After that, all of the applicants will be taken to be assessed at ten, and the people who passed will leave the next day for Gil'ead. There is where we will be trained, taken I make it that far,"explained Aron curtly.

"Well, it seems like things have been decided. If this is what you have decided, then there is no stopping you. But, don't be reckless, okay?" Travis smiled at him from across the table.

"Of course, Travis. I'll be careful." He smiled back at Travis, happy for his concern. He was always worried for him, and often became soft spoken at times like these.

Joshua spoke up. "It's about time for you teenagers to go to bed. It's nearly eleven, and Aron, I'm sure you'll need the sleep." Travis and Aron nodded, pushing out their chairs and leaving the kitchen to get ready for bed. Tonight, Travis and Aron would share the bedroom.

After getting ready, Aron slipped into his bedroll which was laid out on the floor, across from Travis's bed. The room was dark, as Travis was in bed already, having gone immediately to bed, clothes and all. Aron had taken his time to sort all his stuff and do every little thing he could think of that was necessary before sleep. You could say he was a bit of a perfectionist.

He released a quiet sigh, starting at the roof for some time. He thought of the curse Joshua had wrought upon him. Aron felt like he had been cursed enough, living in a small house alone for most of his life, having to work for his food. And now, he was left without even a house, having to resort to staying in the houses' of others. Yes, he had been cursed enough. Eventually, he fell into a deep, quiet sleep.

What Aron did not know was how cursed he really was.


	3. Chapter 2

**I'll try to g****et chapters up quicker next time. Not much motivation I guess, but I still want to finish this story. How fast depends on if I get many reviews/favorites/follows. Introducing some important characters this chapter.. I'll try to get past the boring stuff quick and into the more interesting parts. **

**Chapter 2**

The sound of the morning calls' of birds filtered through the cracks of the window, heralding the light of dawn. Aron slowly awoke, blinking the sleep out of his eyes before groggily getting up and putting on his shoes. Judging by the light, it was approximately six thirty. He had half an hour to get ready for the day.

Looking at the bed next to him, he noted that Travis was beginning to stir.

"Oi? What time is it?"Travis mumbled, shifting in his bed.

"It's about six thirty,"Aron replied.

"Alright then… I'm going back to sleep, you can go get ready."

Aron nodded, though he doubted Travis saw him do so. He collected a few items from his pack that he would need to get ready and left the room. After doing his dailies and eating a quick breakfast, he grabbed his worn brown jacket and pulled it over him. He quickly told Joshua and Sarah that he was going, and departed from the house.

The streets were mostly empty, except for a few early birds who were going about on business. Compared to how Teirm or Gil'ead would look like at this time, Cuenon was very quiet. It wasn't much smaller than those cities, and it was certainly bigger than Yazuac or Therinsford. His home city was mostly a city for the people to live.

His feet carried him to the military building he had seen the post for recruitment yesterday. It was a plain gray, some of the paint peeling off of the rough stone. A weathered poster was tacked to the wall, the words for recruitment written in block letters. Through the clouded and scratched windows, he could not see what was inside. In general, it was a rather boring and unpleasant box wedged tightly between two much nicer looking shops.

With a jingle of a bell, the door opened, and he stepped inside. The first thing he noticed was a flag of the Empire on each side of the recruitment building, then to the two people standing in line. Aron took it that he was early and more people would show up soon. He stepped into line behind a much older, more weathered looking man. Mentally, he gulped - how would he get into the military while competing against those kinds of people?

Military forms apparently took time to fill out, since by the time the two people in front of him were done, about five more had come in. He had gotten there at just the right time; any later and he'd have to wait much longer. Unfortunately, most of the applicants were like the man that had been before him in line; he had just finished his form.

Before him was stout, compact man with a grisly beard. With each peck of dirt he spotted in his face, the more annoyed Aron became. Could he at least care some to clean his face? It was soon revealed to Aron that the recruiter didn't like him either.

"What's this? A pretty boy coming to apply for the army? It looks like you haven't done any honest work in your life!" He laughed gutturally.

"Hey, I've done plenty of work before. Don't judge a person by how they look," he muttered, annoyed. Who was this guy who didn't even bother to wash lecturing him on how his body was _too _smooth? God, he could smell the stench from here. He set himself to stare at the guy. Name decided: Stinky Ass. Perfect fit.

"Oooo, think you're gonna get in with a intimidating look? That won't fool me, kid. Once you face a real fight, that look will be wiped off your face. Come back when you've done some real work and aged a few years." He grunted and went to motion for the next applicant, but Aron adjusted his stance to block him from doing so. He proceeded to lecture Stinky Ass.

"Think you'd do that much better than me? I'm young, strong, and I have a long life ahead of me. What do you have? Hmm, let's see, you're stinky, old, and short. Or maybe you're just jealous of me? How about this, have a bath once in a while and _maybe _you'll impress the ladies. One in a million chance though. But that's better than the chance you have now,"he growled quietly, so none of the others would hear him.

"Look here, boy, I'm married and-"

"Holy crap! You're married? Woah, you should get put in the news for that," he feigned excitement, then continued on to mimick a news reporter. "Ugly and Stinky Man Miraculously Gets a Girl! Who in all of Alagaesia would have thought such possible?"

Glowering, the man retorted, "No woman would want someone like you! Women want guys who can work, fight, and support their family. Only nobles aim for your type, and if you ask me, you were born into the wrong social class!"

"Objection! I am fine in this social class, I can work for myself. Why can't you just stop judging and take my words as truth!" Aron was beginning to get sick of arguing with Stinky Ass. He just wanted to get the form done.

A new voice intervened in the argument, one much deeper. "The boy speaks the truth. I once had him work for me, and he did the job without complaint. And I do not pay men for easy jobs. His appearance may set you off, Caux, but it is something to be accepted. Who knows? His looks may easily put our enemies on light guard, making our fights with less casualties," the man rumbled, staring at Caux. So that was his name.

Caux grumbled, seeming to not want to anger the man. He shoved a very detailed military form and a pencil that had long since lost its eraser. Aron took the pencil and began to fill in the sections.

"Look, just because I gave you the form doesn't mean you're in. You still have to pass the entering assessment, then go through training before earning the rank of soldier." Aron looked up at Caux and smiled, his temper flare having ended. Caux just got even more annoyed at this. The man who had assisted him still stood there, and Aron paused the form and looked up at him for a moment. He was most certainly not a recruit, as he wore quite heavy and intricate armor. Clearly, the man was of high rank in the empire. He faintly remembered working for a man with the same face, but at the time he obviously hadn't been wearing his badges or armor.

"I am General Turik, the leader of the northern quadrant of the Empire's forces. It is the smallest quadrant of the four sections of the Empire, so compared to the other Generals, I am not considered as powerful." He paused, and smiled a bit at the young, white-haired boy in front of him. "I like to see our new recruits. And you interest me; in all of my time, I have yet to see a boy with hair and eyes like you have. If you pass, you will see me again at the gathering of all the new recruits in Gil'ead. After that, I'm unsure if we will meet again."

General Turik looked at the other recruits. "Normally, I wouldn't go to see the recruits of an individual city, but I happened to be passing by, so I thought it wouldn't hurt. I expect to see you all at Gil'ead. Good luck, recruits. I'll be leaving my Second Lieutenant to handle the assessment." Turik left, and Aron quickly went back to his form, quickly writing down the rest of the required fields before handing it back to Caux. He had learned to read and write in his own time, with the help of some. He had figured he would need the skill eventually, and Caux seemed to be slightly impressed by his neatness, as compared to the rest of the recruits.

"You can go now, or you can wait here for two and a half hours. Just be back by ten," Caux grunted, moving on to the next applicant. He acted as if nothing had happened, but he could see the sheen of sweat on his face. Aron figured he had been worried that General Turik would be angry at him for pushing away a potential recruit. Shrugging, Aron left the army building.

Staring up at the blue, cloudless morning sky, he thought about what Caux said. In a sense, he had been right; compared to everyone else, he had never practiced fencing or archery. He had done some basic combat training, but comparing himself to the other recruits, they were sure to have much more practice in such arts than him. The chances he would pass the assessment were low, and despite General Turik's hope for him, he agreed with such thoughts.

But what other hope did he have? He didn't want to - he couldn't - wait until next year, as there was doubt in his ability to gather enough money for both food and a room in the inn. He could fare well enough until the winter, but when the snow kicked in, supply amounts lowered and costs grew. Without lodging costs, it was already hard enough getting by; for sure, he would be out on the streets this winter if he didn't get into the army. To his perspective, going to bootcamp was much better than being homeless and cold.

Ruffling his hair in frustration, he continued down the streets into a part of Cuenon that he rarely traveled through. It was composed of shops that sold items far too expensive for him to ever dream of buying. He had tried to get a job here once, but they had said to come back when he had bought some better attire. Which, of course, never happened. The few times he did come here was when he had free time, which was rare these days. Aron loved to look at beautifully carved wooden furniture and statues, or have a peek at clothes that were made of expensive furs.

After looking through several shops, he noted that he still had a hour to wait. He knew a friend who lived nearby; he had worked for him many times, as he was quite elderly. Besides being old, the man was rather knowledgeable, and instead of being paid in coin he was given knowledge. Aron had asked of many things, but as he began to make his way to the old man's home, he wondered what he could ask this time. The man, who went by Ostic, owed him a favor, and he figured he might as well spend it before he had to leave. In the past, Ostic had assisted him in learning how to read and write, given him advice on how to act around people, explained to him the hierarchy of the Empire, who opposes the Empire, the geography of Alagaesia, how to skin and cook game, and almost everything you'd think you need to know.

Aron turned a street, Ostic's cabin now in view. It was same as every other cabin on the street, plain, small, and new(or, at least, not decaying). Ostic had once said Cuenon was younger than most of the other cities, and was only established after the fall of the Dragon Riders. The Dragon Riders, who he knew nothing about.

_Know nothing about? Why don't I ask Ostic about the Dragon Riders then? Surely, he must know some amount of information about them. _Nowadays, all that people knew of the Dragon Riders was that they had fallen long ago and Galbatorix was the last remaining one. Nothing was ever revealed about the Dragon Riders, so nobody knew anything about them. Ostic was old, maybe old enough to had been alive when rumours of the fall of the Dragon Riders was still fresh. Maybe.

Aron opened the door to Ostic's house, stepping in to find him sitting on a couch, leisurely drinking tea while reading a book in a very clean room. He appreciated Ostic greatly for this, as it indefinitely irked him when people just left things for him to trip over.

Ostic raised his head, a smile blessing his features. "Aron! A good day to you. What brings you here today?"

"The usual. I'm curious about things, and I've got time to burn,"Aron replied cheerfully.

"Of course you're curious. Never been a day you come and you aren't. I haven't seen you lately, to be honest. Where have you been?"

Aron's smile drooped slightly. "I've been busy, trying to get coin up for the coming winter. Summer's ending, and fall's coming in. And when autumn comes, it might as well be winter."

"Hah, I get what you mean." Ostic's voice suddenly changed, "In 'er winter, my bones ar' creakin' as 'e walkie."

"You do realize how silly you just sounded, right? God, you really could use some work on your old man impersonations. Even though you are one."

"'Ar matey, I'll have to work on 'at. I think I might be a bit better at my pirate impersonations, maybe?"

"'Ar, matey." He paused, realizing what he just said. "Wait! Hey! You're rubbing off on me now!" Aron's face showed mock surprise.

"Ay, ay, we ought to get to the matters at hand. How much time you got?"

"Umm, about a hour? I…" Aron wasn't sure if he wanted to tell Ostic yet about his decision joining the army.

"You don't have to tell me now, I understand that some of your jobs can have lengthy descriptions,"Ostic laughed heartily, deciding for him. "Alright. I will now fulfill your desires for knowledge. Speak, my old friend."

Aron loved Ostic for this. He was always happy and was one of the few who could match his optimistic mood. He was almost like a father to him. No, he was a father to him, since his birth father was always out and about. He normally visited him every other day, but he hadn't lately and it had been draining him. Aron had been a little bit more snappy than normal. Not like it took that much to snap him anyways; he had always been like that. But most found no reason to make him angry, so few saw him get so. However, Stinky Ass earlier had been lucky enough to receive one of his angry bouts. What was Stinky Ass's name again? _Oh, yeah, he's called Caux. _

He smiled internally at himself. Caux was a name that sounded almost like… no. Not going there.

"I'm not sure if you'll know much on the subject, but do you know about the Dragon Riders?" Ostic visibly stiffened, which made Aron uneasy. He knew it was a touchy subject, but he hoped Ostic would be trusting enough to tell him what really made it so.

He sighed. "The Dragon Riders. As you know, the last left of them is Galbatorix. During their reign, the elves, dwarves, and Analgesia was united. The elves our allies, the dwarves our friends. Such things can never last. I do not know much detail on subject, but I can tell you the outline." Aron nodded, intently looking at Ostic. He added in a dangerous tone, "Do not tell this to anyone, nor tell where the information came from. It could possibly endanger your life."

"I understand. Not telling anyone anything about the Dragon Riders." Aron raised his closed fist to his chest as he chanted the words. Ostic smiled lightly and cradled a half-full tea cup in his hands as he thought of what to say.

"You can sit down, you know." Aron made a move to sit down onto the opposing armchair to Ostic's. "Alright, let's begin. Galbatorix, the current king, did not always have the black dragon he has now. One day, when he was out traveling without permission with his friends, his dragon died. His friends had left him, for they feared they would be blamed. Galbatorix went all the way home, on foot. When he came back, the Riders were wary and when he asked for a new dragon, they denied him. Galbatorix was losing it, and his mentality wasn't strong."

"I'm not sure exactly how it goes. But Galbatorix found Morzan, another Dragon Rider, who agreed to help him. They began to destroy the Dragon Riders from the inside, and other Riders joined them, each corrupt in their own right."

"And so the Thirteen Forsworn were born. The Forsworn and good Riders both died. Eventually, only a few were left. Morzan was the last to die to a former Dragon Rider." He paused, looking on fondly as if remembering a memory. Aron didn't understand his reaction at the time. "The elves, dwarves, and the Varden separated away from the Empire. The Varden are the most forthright, trying their best to defeat Galbatorix. But they are yet to succeed, and I doubt they will without the elves' help."

Aron looked on. The Empire was dark then, and Galbatorix evil. It made him think twice about joining the army for a moment, but he pushed the thought away. There was no way he could get high enough into the ranks to meet Galbatorix, and maybe through joining the army he could find the Varden. _No, I'm not going to join the Varden. That's foolish; why would I want to suddenly fight for a hopeless cause? I'll only get myself killed. If I ever have a change of heart, I just leave the army and leave it at that. _He was good with that.

He watched Ostic, who sat back in his armchair, sipping on his tea. Aron didn't know what to say about the entire situation, and instead chose to stay seated in his own chair, going over various things. He might not want to tell Ostic that he was joining the army now, since he might disapprove.

"Ostic." The old man looked up. "I'll be gone for a while from Cuenon, okay? I'm going out of town to Gil'ead for a small business trip. It'll get me the money I need for both an inn and food."

"Ah. Just keep your skin on, okay?" He seemed distant.

"I need to get going now. My two hours are just about up, and I have some work to do. See you later!"

Ostic nodded, smiled a bit then continued looking off into space. Aron merely got up and walked out the door, not saying another word. The time for the assessment had come.


End file.
